La Migra

With sleep in her eyes she parts the curtain,sees the black van and three strange men.

Standing on tiptoe in woolen pajamasshe raps at the window, sees him drive offwith three strange men.

They’ve come to the farm in a dusty van,found him at work on the fence out back,sat him between them and drove the lanescattering stones and dirt.

In blue pajamas with padded feetshe runs to the phone and tells the “O” Papá’s been taken away in a vanfrom where she lives with the broken chairand chicks in the yard and he fell downrunning away from three strange men.

All alone in a quiet house she holdson tight to a blanket endto keep her safe from the raging windand the angry shouts of three strange men.

Michael McMahon is presently teaching at Fresno Pacific University. His poems have appeared in Seneca Review, Notre Dame Review and Poetry East.